A Hidden Past
by MiaGhost
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester travel the country, school to school. John hunts monsters. Sam just wants to keep his head down and learn but Dean has a nose for sussing the school bad-boy, either befriending or usurping him. Imagine everyone's surprise when it's Sam, sweet little goody-two-shoes Sammy, that the rule-breaking older kid takes a shine to. Kid!Chesters AU (Sabriel/Destiel)
1. Chapter 1

John Winchester raised his sons on the road. He hunts monsters, training his boys to shoot, the importance of lore, of keeping each other safe. Dean and Sam bounce from school to school, staying only long enough for John to kill the monster and find his next case. Dean's sixteen and constantly trying trying to convince their father that he's old enough now to leave school behind him, to help out on hunts on a more regular - and permanent - basis. Sam, now old enough for high school, has mixed feelings about it. Always eager to learn, yet almost always bullied, school's a mixed blessing for him.

As always, Dean's already sussed out the school bad-boy, rule-breaker extraordinaire, and as the trouble-maker of every class he's ever been in, Dean's set his sights on being in with the guy. Usually that's easy enough, and on occasions when it fails Dean does the next best thing; humiliates the kid and takes his rightful place at the top of the food chain.

Imagine everyone's surprise when it's Sam, sweet little goody-two-shoes Sammy, that the rule-breaking older kid takes a shine to.

* * *

 _Chapter One_

"Dad, look." Dean began, clapping one hand on the roof of his father's '67 Impala and giving his most convincing half-grin, keeping his tone carefully casual while still compelling, "We both know I'm more than old enough, that I'm a great shot, that my sense of direction's impeccable and after Atlanta…" he rocked back on his feet, looking proud of himself and gesturing to his chest with two hands, "Well. We both know I'm capable of ganking a monster."

John Winchester was ignoring his oldest son, tinkering with something under the hood. Dean would know exactly what he was doing just by looking, and probably be able to help, but knew better than to get in his dad's way when it came to the car. And he totally understood it; she was a beauty, a genius of engineering and soul, sleek and black in the early sun outside their latest motel, with a purr in her engine to best any cougar. Dean more than loved the car. If, God forbid, there was ever anything to happen to their dad, there was no question who the car would go to. And it wasn't because he was the oldest, either. Dean gave her an appreciative glance-over as he steeled himself to continue.

"I can drop Sammy at school," he offered, nonchalant and using the kid-version of his brother's name to push the idea of their difference in age, "and then swing back and meet you. Wouldn't take long, and then we could have this thing dead in its own lair before school's even out."

He let the suggestion hang, trying to show he wasn't watching his father closely, pretending instead to polish the roof-edge of the Impala. His heart fell when John finally sighed and pushed off from under the hood, wiping his hands on an old rag before closing the hood with a sharp slam.

"Dean, we've talked about this."

Dean turned his eyes on his father, trying his best not to look bothered by the slightly irritated undertone of his voice, his expression a neutral mask that adults were so good at.

"I know." he answered evenly, meeting his father's gaze confidently, "But that was six months ago. I'm older now, I've got three kills under my belt-"

"Two." John corrected, one edge of his mouth lifting in a secretive amusement.

"Two and a half," Dean amended without pause, refusing to get drawn into a petty argument when he needed John to believe he was grown up, "and I'm learning more out there than stuck in a classroom and you know it."

John gave him an appraising look, from head to toe in that way that was maddening and intimidating in equal measure. Dean held his ground and kept his gaze levelled, even when a small part of him still wanted to look down at his feet and submit. Because he _knew_ he was capable this time. He knew he was ready, had been for ages, and he _knew_ that if he showed the slightest sign of weakness John would shake his head and shoot him down. And he _really_ wanted to go on this one.

John sighed, tucking the rag back into the toolkit at his feet and then stretching as he stood. Then he folded his arms and sat back against the hood of the car.

"Dean." he said, and Dean knew already that he'd lost. "I need you at school for as long as you can stay there." He held a hand up when Dean opened his mouth, giving his son a chastising look, "There's still stuff you can learn there, and I promised your mom you'd get as good an education as I could get you."

Dean winced at the mention of Mary, finally breaking his gaze to look out at the car park of the motel, a twinge in his chest painful.

"And secondly, you know I need you where Sam is. I need you looking out for him. I can't go into a hunt when I'm worrying about him, you know that."

"But-"

"No buts, Dean. No ifs, no buts, no coconuts, understand me?"

Dean was sure that phrase was supposed to be funny, but said in John Winchester's gravelly no-nonsense tone it brought up less images of coconuts and sunny beaches than it did blood and bad things that go bump in the night. Dean sighed, looking at the hood of the car as his confidence began to fail him, stubbornly frowning regardless.

"He can take care of himself. He's not a little kid anym-"

"He's twelve, Dean."

"Thirteen."

John sighed, and the fighting darkness in his voice left, leaving him sounding stubborn and determined and inarguable all the same.

"He's still a kid, Dean. Don't tell me you think he isn't just to get out there. You might have been ready to dive out guns blazing when you were twelve-"

"Thirteen."

"-but Sam's different. He's more like your mom. He's soft, yet, and-"

"Sam's tougher than you give him credit for, y'know." Dean grouched, for a moment forgetting that he needed John on side to convince him because the slight directed at Sam distracted him, "You're always treating him like he's five, but the kid's got more guts than you think."

For a moment, John's face was a clashing mixture of pride and irritation, overtaken by a rapidly thinning patience.

"We don't have time to get into this." he said with finality, standing from the car and heading in the direction of the motel reception, "I'm going for a map. Get your stuff for school, and get your brother in the car by the time I get back."

Dean grumbled an affirmative, cursing under his breath as their father walked off. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and gave the front wheel of the car a petulant kick in frustration. Sam, having heard every word through their open window, gave a sigh and finished tying his trainers before tossing his latest book in his rucksack with everything else and shouldering it. Having already brushed his teeth and packed everything else, he flicked off the TV and grabbed his jacket from the coat stand when he reached the door. He gave the room a glance to see if he'd missed anything obvious, and tugged open the door to find his brother on the other side.

"Hey, Dean." he said, looking up just in time to see the resigned expression on his face morph into a grin.

"You ready?"

Sam returned the grin, shifting his rucksack on his shoulder and half-heartedly waving his jacket in his hand.

"Ready as I'll ever be. I hate first days."

At that, Dean's sunny grin softened into something more sympathetic and he clapped a hand on his little brother's shoulder as they made their way to the car.

"I know. Me too. But it won't be that bad. We're not staying long this time anyways."

Sam sighed, looking down at the gravel under his trainers and thinking how every motel in the country seemed to have the same taste in car park design.

"That's half the problem." Sam dared to breathe as he opened the rear door and dumped his stuff in before tipping his head to look up at Dean, squinting as the sun hit his face, "I hate always being the new kid. Why can't we just stay in the same place for a while? Just a year, so I can actually make friends and pass classes?"

Dean, who would almost always snort at him for wanting to enjoy school, instead gave a sigh this time, his hand resting on the top of Sam's door.

"You know we can't, Sammy. That's not how monsters work."

Sam hung his head and gave a sigh that sounded like it travelled all the way from his toes.

"I know." he murmured, slipping into his seat and letting Dean close the door for him. "I just wish we were normal."

He didn't expect what Dean did next. That's not to say in any way that Sam thought Dean was anything less than the best big brother a guy could ever have. But Dean was older, practically grown up. He was tough and dangerous and Sam pitied any bully who dared even _look_ at Dean the wrong way. And believe him, he'd seen some pretty pitiable bullies in his time. Idiots who thought they could take Dean on. But Dean wasn't like Sam, and Sam knew that. And it was okay. Dean didn't really do heart-to-hearts any more. Not since he'd grown up. He called them chick-flick moments like there was something about them that tasted bad. Sometimes Sam wondered if it was all just an act to be more like their dad, and sometimes he was almost sure it was.

Whatever. It was okay.

But Dean surprised Sam right then by resting his arms on the roof of the Impala and leaning down until his face blocked the sun streaming in through Sam's open window. He levelled a big-brother look at Sam that was serious and honest and free of anything else.

"We are normal, Sam." he said, sounding like he was imparting some hugely serious piece of wisdom, his gaze making sure Sam listened to him, "You're the most normal person I ever met. It's just that what we do is something normal people don't usually know about."

And with that he was gone from the window. Sam watched him walk around the car to settle on the hood, looking out towards the reception area to wait for John. Sam stared out at the back of his brother's favourite leather jacket - the one that used to be their dad's - and caught himself smiling despite what he was about to have to do. Again. Nerves still flittered about in his abdomen and he still wished he could just skip today and be in tomorrow already, - at least being the new kid the second day wasn't so bad - but at least now he felt a little better.

Dean Winchester was the greatest big brother a guy could ask for. And for someone who hated chick-flick moments so much, he could be pretty good at giving them to Sam when he needed them.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

"Alright, alright, you can settle down now." she said with a smile, "So lovely of you to greet the man before he's even introduced himself."

She turned to him with a friendly expression, and Sam liked her instantly. Shame he'd be leaving so soon. The thought made his heart sink again. He'd managed to go five minutes in the new room without thinking that, watching his teacher speak with the Headmaster while he stood just inside the door and pretended the whole room of students weren't looking at him with interested eyes.

"Now, why don't you give us a little insight into what it means to be Samuel Winchester?"

Well, Sam supposed that was an interesting way to ask the overdone _Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?_ He gave her a timid smile and turned to the classroom, pretty small compared to some of his old schools but it _was_ a pretty small town, and hiked his rucksack on his shoulder. Two kids at the back were snickering at something, and he was pleased to see not a single empty seat anywhere near them. They looked like trouble. He swallowed, and forced himself to smile.

"It's Sam," he threw her an apologetic glance and she only smiled further and gave him a reassuring nod of encouragement, "and I'm thirteen. My family travels a lot because of my dad's work, and this is the… tenth time I've had to do this." He gave the teacher another apologetic look as she tried to hide her surprise, "This year, anyway. I've got a brother and my favourite subjects are English Lit and History."

There was a lot more he could say, he knew. A lot that they wouldn't believe.

 _Hi, I'm Sam. I've been able to shoot straight since I was four years old and my family hunts monsters now seeing as how a Demon killed my mom. Oh yeah, and Demons are real. And Werewolves, Vampires, Wendigos, Djinn, The Boogeyman, Wraiths, Ghosts, Zombies, Witches. You name it. If it's scary and impossible and lurks in the shadows, it's real._

Instead, Sam only gave a shrug and looked around awkwardly.

"Okay." his teacher said brightly, giving him another flash of that friendly smile, " _Sam_ , I'll remember that," she winked, "why don't you pick one of our empty seats and we'll get started today?"

Her eyes were honey-brown and her hair was a chestnutty sort of auburn. She looked super lovely, and Sam already knew this was going to be his easiest class by far, because someone as welcoming as Mrs McLeod wouldn't allow any sort of bullying in her classroom.

He'd already picked the seat he wanted, a double desk near the front by himself, please, and made his way over. He dumped his rucksack in the seat next to him and tugged out his notebook from the zipper pocket he'd put it in the night before, flipping it open to the first empty page and stifling a surprised laugh at what he found.

Dean had been awake when Sam fell asleep the night before, and Sam now knew what his brother had been staying awake for. He'd taken up a half of the page with a - crappy - doodle of a classroom, complete with messy-haired stick-kids behind out-of-proportion desks facing a monstrously misshapen blackboard. In front of one half of that stood what he guessed had to be the teacher, and next to that a tiny figure Sam knew was meant to be him, with a mop of hair that hung over his face and a stack of books in his hands that towered over him.

The teacher had horns. And dripping fangs and hairy paws and a huge spiky tail. From the creature's mouth floated a massive speech bubble which took up most of what was left of the page, and in it Dean's familiar messy scrawl said:

 _Monsters, Sam, are so much scarier than little old me. School's not so bad, and if any of the morons in this class give you any trouble then Dean'll shove his boot up their asses!_

Sam took a good long look at it before turning to the next empty page, a secret smile on his lips as the teacher dove into the announcements and notices for homeroom, Sam taking note of anything he thought he might need to know, and more besides. Just in case. All the while, he wondered how Dean dealt with constantly having to introduce himself to new classes too. Did he say the same things every time the way Sam was always tempted, the script of their lives? Or did he tell outrageous lies about himself because he knew he wasn't going to be around long enough for them to fact-check?

Either way, Sam was betting his big brother was better at it than he was, because Dean was better at everything. Except studying, Sam thought with a proud sort of feeling, because Sam was best at that.

 ** _SupernaturalSupernaturalSupernaturalSupernaturalSupernatural_**

"Okay, Dean, would you like to introduce yourself?"

The man in charge of Dean's latest homeroom class was pretty young as far as teachers went, and Dean shot him a lazy grin, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and sticking out his elbows in a humorous sort of all-body shrug.

"Well, you already gave 'em my name, and they've never seen _this_ before," he used an index finger to draw a circle in the air in front of his face, "so they _know_ I'm new. Ain't that an introduction?"

The man shot Dean a quizzical glance before the tops of his cheeks began to redden and his eyes took on a righteous look. Dean would take pleasure in _that_ particular feat in a moment, because as soon as he'd shot the man a cheerful look he flicked his eyes over the students in the room, many of whom gave stifled sniggers, to find the one in the back row he knew would be there.

Every class had one, and it was _always_ Dean, whether by joining the existing or by dumping them from his own spot at top of the food chain. A blonde girl wearing red doc martins, blue skinny jeans and a black crop top with _Bite Me_ in scribbled white under a green plaid shirt was chewing pink chewing gum and giving him the once over, her purple lipstick making it obvious that she was smirking at him as she leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. Her eyes were slicked with eyeliner that made them spark and glow. One one side of her sat a kid with a crew cut whose whole demeanour screamed _I Play Football_ in gigantic letters - and that was _without_ the stupid Letter Jacket and the muscled arms - was also giving him an appraising look with flinty grey eyes, torn between laughing and looking annoyed he himself wasn't the one making the class laugh at the teacher.

On her other side there was guy in a black and white checked shirt, the collar open and enough buttons undone to show of the collar of the bright red T-shirt underneath. His hair was a browny blonde colour and curled under his ears and at the back of his neck and he wore black designer jeans and bright blue converse. He hadn't looked up once since Dean stepped into the room and he had his feet up on the desk, crossed at the ankle while he rocked back in his chair and swiped at his phone, obviously completely unconcerned by the fact the teacher could totally see him.

 _Bingo_.

There was an empty double in the aisle by the window on the guy's other side, and Dean began to saunter towards it, knowing he was leaving the teacher a little stunned. He dumped the pen he'd pestered Sam for on the desk and made a show of rooting in his pockets for a scrap of crumpled paper, before sliding into the empty seat and resting one elbow on the desk, finishing the whole image by turning his gaze out the window and blatantly ignoring the reprimanding gaze of the man who was by name in charge of the room.

Because Dean had just made it pretty obvious he himself could command the room.

"Gabriel," the teacher intoned in a low voice, obviously trying to claw back some of the authority he'd just lost, "seeing as the prohibited device in your hands is obviously much more interesting than your newest classmate, congratulations. You've just volunteered to be his buddy for the week."

Dean looked around, throwing the teacher a thoroughly disgusted look at the assumption he needed - or indeed _wanted_ \- another student to guide him around the school like he was five. The kid next to him only muttered in return.

"Bite Me."

The girl in the doc martins sniggered.

"What was that, Mr Novak?" came the swift, stern voice of the teacher.

"I _said_ …" the kid spoke up, holding one finger in the air and sitting up properly as he tapped his screen a couple more times before flashing a triumphant grin and finally looking up, leaning forwards over his desk and turning his head to the guy on the girl's other side, " - Just beat your high score, Mike, suck on _that! -_ "

Before the teacher could even comment on how downright rude the guy Gabriel - Who the hell names a kid _Gabriel?_ \- was being, the blond turned back to the front of the class and gave him a winning, deliberately infuriating grin.

" - that at the age of sixteen, it's really an out-dated custom to have an assigned member of your homeroom babysit you through a week of school, particularly one this small. Not many opportunities to get lost 'round here," he paused, flicked the girl a smirk, "unless you're on your way to the Office or lookin' for an empty broom closet…" he trailed off, looking smug when the entire class were suddenly stifling sniggers at his plain innuendo.

"Mr Novak-"

"Please," the kid interrupted in a sarcastically cordial manner, returning to leaning back in his seat again, setting his feet back on the desk, "call me Gabriel."

As the class lost it and the teacher's face turned a true shade of red, Dean had to admit he was impressed. This kid had guts. The guy got himself sent down the Headmaster's Office with the promise of a week's detention beginning that very night, but instead of simply enjoying the walk out of the room the blonde had turned in the doorway and taken hold of the handle as though to close it behind himself, giving the teacher another winning grin. And then…

"It's a date," he pronounced, sounding utterly, downright salacious as he tossed their homeroom teacher a wink for good measure, "see ya tonight, _sir_."

He closed the door behind him as the class erupted into a hot-bed of laughter and wolf-whistles and " _Oh my god, did you hear that?_ "s and the teacher tried to regain control.

Yepp. Dean had to admit the kid had guts.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

"Gotcha."

Sam turned his head to see his brother, hands in his pockets and his face half-smirking, leaning against the wall next to the door of the room he'd just vacated, the stream of students passing between them. For the first time since homeroom Sam felt himself smiling, the tension that had been coiling slowly tighter inside him all morning unwinding enough to let him breathe.

"You coulda got me in a whole load of trouble before I'd even started my day." he said in return, squeezing between the flow of taller kids as Dean pushed off the wall to tower over him.

Dean's face lit up then, his eyes sparking as a true grin took over his lips.

"What did you think?"

Sam opened his mouth, a whole host of Dean-like witty comebacks battling onto his tongue, but then he copped out at the last moment and simply gave his older brother a sheepish sort of Sam-grin.

"Thanks. Made me feel better."

Dean's grin held for a moment before he rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated noise of exasperation.

"Bitch."

Sam's own grin remained, pleased and confident now that he was in Dean's vicinity again.

"Jerk."

Dean chuckled, reaching over and ruffling Sam's hair as they made their way down the corridor, people parting just enough for the older Winchester to lead his kid brother towards the cafeteria. It was only break right then and neither really needed anything to eat, accustomed as they were to eating at ridiculous times and going stretches without unnecessary snacking, but Dean always did this first day.

Sam wasn't sure how, whether his brother just asked to go to the toilet and went for a scout or something, but however it worked, Sam was grateful. When the bell for break went on the first day, Dean would somehow be waiting outside Sam's classroom, and would then proceed to guide Sam to the lunch hall so that Sam knew where it was for lunchtime. It was one of their own traditions. It was also a safeguard, for situations when Dean wasn't going to be there at lunch. Sometimes it was a detention or being held back, Sam knew his brother liked to make a - rather unpleasant - first impression with his teachers, but often Dean just didn't feel like it and went for a walk or something equally mysterious.

And sometimes, sometimes it was a girl already. The thought always made Sam feel vaguely uncomfortable. Not because he thought girls had cooties or anything quite so childish, just that he and his brother were different in a lot of ways, one of those ways being that Dean liked to be open about girls and kissing and… other stuff, and Sam didn't. He'd liked a girl once, who'd turned out to be a monster in the end, but he hadn't at any point wanted to pronounce it the way Dean so often did. Sam had kept her a secret, and in the end it had saved her skin because it meant his family didn't know to hunt her.

"Are you gonna be here?" he asked, curious, when they eventually did reach the large open doors of the lunch hall. Internally he cringed a little, hoping he didn't sound like a clingy baby.

Dean hummed as he cocked his head and gave the mostly empty cafeteria a sweeping glance, a habit from years of being trained as a hunter and also the habit of a sometimes overly protective older brother. Growing up mostly just the two of them, never getting too close to other people, had prodded them to craft a particularly close bond as brothers, even despite the age gap. Dean wasn't just his brother, Sam knew even then, he was his best friend in all the world.

When he was little it hadn't seemed weird to him. He was young and especially naive and his family and his life had seemed totally normal to him. Now though, he was thirteen and his eyes had been opened by years of bullies and taunts and revelations about his family. Most of the world's population lived stable lives in the same areas for huge if not endless stretches of time. The kids here all probably went to kindergarden together, elementary, middle school. They'd grown up together.

The only person Sam could share that with was Dean.

So they were much closer than other families would be, something Sam had learned from a friend he'd made a couple years ago, a nerdy kid a lot like himself who talked about how much he hated his older siblings and wished he could have the sort of relationship Sam and Dean had instead. Sam didn't have the heart to tell him that to have that closeness meant a life like his and a father like his, who loved his sons endlessly but pretty much left them to fend for themselves and each other most the time.

Sam wouldn't be surprised if Dean had been the one who taught him everything. He knew most of his life he'd been Dean's problem, remembered a lot of it, like Dean making breakfasts and reading him bedtime stories and helping him do homework and taking him to libraries and teaching him to tie his shoelaces and even how to do buttons. He wouldn't be surprised if it was Dean who'd taught him to walk, talk and read, in place of his father.

So yeah, okay, sometimes he was a little clingy. But he was working on it, okay? He was thirteen now, and he _was_ getting better at surviving without Dean at his shoulder all the time, but it was… Well it was difficult, sometimes. Particularly when Sam felt as out of place and vulnerable as he did at school when he was the new kid.

Because, when you really looked at it from his point of view the only person he really had in his life, who was actually _there_ , was Dean.

Dean had his back. And even when Sam was being an ultra-pain and clingy and crying and sick and throwing temper tantrums and everything else he was ashamed to admit he did, Dean was there.

He cocked his head to the side as he looked up at the thoughtful expression on his big brother's face. He tried to follow his gaze, but there were lots of little groups of people scattered around and Sam wasn't really sure which one his brother was looking at, if any.

"Dean?"

Dean blinked, and then he was back with Sam, a smile slipping back in place.

"Probably." he answered, ruffling Sam's hair again just to make him squawk and wriggle away with a laugh, his face pink and his smile partly embarrassed and partly pleased and mostly annoyed, "Today, anyways."

Sam shot him a curious, exasperated look as he fixed his hair with that air of someone not a grown up and not a kid still, making Dean's heart squeeze a little with fondness for the dorky kid, not that he'd admit it to anyone. He'd been serious when he'd told John those things about Sam. Sure, he knew his brother still needed him and he wasn't _stupid_. He'd never take Sam anywhere near a hunt if he could help it, not while he was still… Well, still _Sammy_ , but the kid _was_ tough. Not always, and not in every way, because he had a heart the size of the moon and those puppy-dog eyes to match, but he wasn't the _little_ kid their dad seemed to still believe he was.

Dean wasn't just saying it to get out on a hunt. He wouldn't use his brother like that, and it stung a little to think John believed he would.

"Planning on getting detention?" Sam asked, his tone two parts reprimand one part awe.

Dean chuckled, looking back into the lunch hall before checking his watch.

"We got five if you want something."

Sam looked across the hall thoughtfully. Dean gave a fake sigh and rolled his eyes, putting one hand on his brother's shoulder and giving him a gentle push through the door.

"Cummon. We'll see what the coffee's like."

Sam scrunched up his nose, but Dean wasn't fooled. He knew the kid loved the stuff, would live on it if John wasn't so strict about Sam messing his brain up. He ducked his head to Sam's ear and stage-whispered.

"I won't tell dad."

Sam cocked his head to the side and stopped pulling the face, instead giving Dean that patented little brother smirk, the secret one that belonged to Dean and him only. It made Dean laugh again.

"Cummon, it's on me."

"Well in that case…" Sam teased, upping his pace and then turning to walk backwards, his grin wide and full, "Can I have fruit salad too?"

Dean pulled the face this time.

"You are such a dork."

"Hey." Sam cried as he reached the counter and stood on his toes to look over, giving the lunch lady one of his most winning, innocent smiles in greeting, "You won't be saying that when I'm taller than you."

Dean chuckled and rested his arm atop Sam's head.

"Uh huh." he replied, "A fruit salad," he told the woman, shooting Sam a mock-scandalised glance, "and two coffees please, one black no sugar one white with three."

"Two, Dean, two! I only need two!"

Dean shook his head at the lunch lady when she looked back at them, and she smiled as she went about filling their cups. Sam gave Dean an over-the-top scowl and tossed his arm from his head.

"Jerk." he muttered, to hide the fact that he did actually prefer three sugars.

"Bitch." Dean replied good-naturedly, handing over the money when their order came, "Thanks."

When he flashed a charming smile, the woman seemed a little surprised and smiled back, the tops of her cheeks pink. It always paid to get in with the lunch hall staff, particularly if he was going to be skipping lunches. Lunch halls were notorious for bullying, and extra eyes and ears on Sam's side were useful. He had the little-kid thing going for him there too, the kind of brown-eyed floppy-haired thing that made old ladies coo and offer him sweets.

And it was always helpful to have them there to be able to tell Dean the name of any particular kid that took up the mantle of picking on his little brother, because then Dean could talk to the bully personally.

Or beat him to a pulp, depending.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

The other end of that tradition in a new school which Sam quite liked was Dean dropping him off at his next class. Because Dean didn't care about things like being late to his own class they dawdled, eking out the break as far as it would go, students scurrying all around them while Dean was asking after Sam's homeroom class - _Any morons yet?_ \- and after the teacher - _Go on, is she hot?_ \- and about his other classes so far, whether he'd made friends, whether he had homework.

Normal things.

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was actually interested, or whether he bothered because he knew it made Sam feel normal and calm by the time they reached the classroom where they'd have to part. But even in that part there was something positive, because Sam's big brother was _cool_. And kids who saw that sometimes thought Sam was cool too. Or at least, they stayed away if they didn't. And Sam was sure that this part Dean _did_ know made Sam feel better, because it was nice sometimes to be reminded that he had this awesome big brother who'd have his back if anybody started anything.

Sam flashed Dean a beaming grin as he called his goodbye, Dean sauntering backwards down the corridor at an unhurried pace, his hands in his jacket pockets and his grin in place.

"Give 'em Hell, Sammy!" he called, just like always on a first day, before Sam bounced into the classroom feeling miles better than he had going into homeroom.

He was pretty much last there anyway, so it was an easy job of picking out a seat, knowing it probably didn't belong to anyone. He picked the one at the front, of course, feeling okay about the fact there was someone in the other seat because he'd spent break with Dean and his big brother's confidence had leaked onto him a little.

Besides, the kid was scrawny, with a crazy mess of black hair and a funny-looking coat, so Sam was pretty sure he wasn't a bully. If anything, he was likely a victim of the bullies. He slid into the seat, taking a curious peek at the notebook the kid was doodling in, elegant looping sketches in the margins of a new page.

Neat.

Sam dove into his rucksack for his own school supplies, nearly jumping out of his skin with a quiet, low voice spoke right in his ear.

"Sam, right?"

He jerked his head to find the kid looking at him curiously, unfathomably deep azure eyes squinting as though reading Sam inside out from the very core. It made Sam a little nervous, but he swallowed it down with a neutral mask he'd learned from Dean.

"Who're you?"

The kid blinked, before tipping his head acutely to one side. Sam was already getting the feeling the kid was a bit odd.

"They've assigned me as your buddy, because you're mostly in higher-level classes, but unfortunately Monday morning is pretty unhelpful because that's both your other classes at once."

Sam frowned, starting to feel a little creeped out, but relaxing at the knowledge the kid knew his schedule because he was a buddy. Not a stalker or something, Sam hoped. He'd met some kids in his day who had weird obsessions about new kids. Weird ideas and theories and just plain weirdness.

"Yeah, okay, but who _are_ you?"

"Oh!" the boy blinked again, this time his face morphing into surprise and to apology, his cheeks taking on a pink hue, "Sorry! I'm Castiel."

Sam shook the outstretched hand, studying the blue-eyed boy carefully. It didn't take long to suss him out. Nerdy kid, obviously, probably quiet. Didn't look like he smiled much. But he _did_ look pretty, in an odd, boy sort of way. Sam found he quite liked him already. Dean'd have a field day teasing the poor kid.

"Sam." he affirmed, and the other boy - Castiel, smiled faintly.

"Yes. So you must be very talented at English Literature."

Sam blinked a little at the odd way the boy had of speaking, but instead of commenting he just smiled, setting his notebook finally on the table and sitting a pencil beside it.

"Well, yeah, I guess. It's my favourite subject."

"Fondness alone wouldn't place you in a class above your year group." Castiel replied.

Sam chuckled, opening his notebook to a new page, a little thankful there was no doodle now that he had a partner to sit with this time.

"Guess not. I skipped a grade about a year back. At least they kept it up so far."

When Castiel's eyes narrowed slightly, curious, Sam gave him a smile and explained.

"We move around a lot. Lots of new schools, new classes. But they keep me in the year up, so that's a plus."

Castiel nodded, still looking at him with that deep, level gaze.

"That must be hard."

Sam shook his head, but when he opened his mouth to refute it he found his words stuck in his throat. Maybe it was the frankness of Castiel's way of asking. Usually Sam could lie about hating to move so much, or shrug it off. Castiel had surprised him. He closed his mouth again and shrugged, avoiding the other boy's eyes.

"I'm sorry if I pried."

Sam smiled softly, turning to look at Castiel once more. The blue-eyed boy looked a little nervous, one thumb rubbing against the edged corner of his notebook as he very clearly bit the inside of his bottom lip.

Yup, Sam liked him alright.

"S'alright, Cas."

Castiel's eyes widened a little, and his thumb stopped rubbing his notebook. He looked the picture of surprised, and Sam found himself flushing a little.

"Sorry. Can I call you Cas?"

Castiel blinked, before a small, shy sort of smile graced his face.

"S-sure, uhm, yes. Yeah, that's okay. You can call me Cas."

Sam beamed, lifting his pencil as the teacher began to introduce the day's topic.

"Awesome." he whispered, careful not to get caught talking now that class was starting, "Because if we're going to be friends, _Castiel_ is a bit of a mouthful, you know?"

Again, Sam was treated to that wide-eyed startled look, as though the kid couldn't contemplate someone wanting to be his friend. It made Sam a little sad. He'd have to make sure Dean never teased Castiel. Like, ever.

Sam had begun taking notes, smiling gratefully when the teacher gave him a simple introduction when she reached him on the register and didn't make a big deal about it, and a fair few moments had passed before Castiel spoke up again. He'd turned dutifully to his notebook and picked up his pencil again, but he hadn't written anything down yet, not that Sam was being a creep and watching him or anything. He was beginning to feel vaguely nervous that he'd freaked the kid out by being so forward. Maybe it wasn't Castiel who was odd but Sam himself. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything to further humiliate himself on his first day.

But eventually, Castiel _did_ speak up, so that was something.

"You want to be my friend? I thought perhaps, maybe we could be, if I was your buddy for your first week and we got along, but this is much sooner than I expected."

Sam turned his head from where he was scribbling, flashing a smile Castiel's way.

"Uh, yeah, I do. Your doodles are really cool. Dean does fun doodles sometimes, but I can't draw to save my life."

His voice was friendly and soft and even, trying his best to assure Castiel he didn't need to look so surprised. Castiel's cheeks turned a little pink as he looked down at his notepad.

"Thank you. My brother taught me. It slows my mind down. Apparently I am prone to over thinking and he says I get worked up over- oh." He sent Sam a bashful smile, "I did it, didn't I? Sorry."

Sam only smiled again in return.

"That's cool. Hey, maybe you could teach me. I like the wings, especially. When I try to draw birds they just look like they're carrying freaky triangles on their backs."

He gave a short, self-deprecating little chuckle, hidden under one hand, and was pleased to see Castiel smile too.

"I prefer drawing Angels to birds." he admitted softly, looking sideways at Sam, "But bees are absorbing too. Their wings are fascinating. Did you know that Physics can't explain why bees fly? By all factors they shouldn't be able to, because of wing size and relative mass and weight, but they do it anyway. It's astounding."

Sam's smile widened. Yepp, he _definitely_ liked this kid. Making a friend on the first day was, well, a first for Sam. At least one properly like this, and not just from the convenience of several classes in common. Castiel was sort of kooky, and Sam could get behind that. His family hunted monsters, kinda funny he'd make a friend who had a thing for Angels, huh?

"Do you think Angels exist?" Sam asked, suddenly and without meaning to.

When Castiel looked up in surprise again, Sam gave a one-shouldered shrug to play off how serious his voice had sounded.

"I mean, hypothetically. Say that monsters existed, right? Like Vampires and Demons and stuff. D'you think Angels would be real too?"

Now what happened next was arguably what cemented Sam's determination to make proper friends with Castiel, the blue-eyed kid in the funny coat who spoke oddly. Because instead of looking at Sam like he was nuts, or some dorky comic-book weirdo, (which arguably he could be called, he supposed,) Castiel smiled instead, his eyes meeting Sam's levelly as he gave a small nod.

"Completely. If there were Demons, there would have to be Angels, if only for balance."

Sam grinned widely, giving a deep nod and returning to copy his missed notes from the board. They settled into a companionable quiet for a while, listening to the teacher and taking notes, Castiel helpfully explaining references she made to the text they'd been reading lately when Sam admitted he'd never heard of it. When she finally clapped her hands and told them they could pack up a few minutes early because they'd worked so dutifully, Sam turned to Castiel and nudged him with his elbow.

"Do you have Science next?" he asked, "With me?"

Castiel gave him a warm smile, tucking his notepad and pencil into his satchel and ducking under the strap.

"Yes." he answered, adjusting the strap neatly on the shoulder of his coat, "And after lunch I have History."

Sam grinned back, shouldering his own rucksack.

"Wicked."

Castiel gave a short chuckle.

"Hardly. If anything, Mr Shurley is the epitome of _Goodness_."

Sam laughed, pushing in his chair as the bell went and they were dismissed. As they left the room and turned right up the newt corridor, something popped into his head.

"Oh, and that bee thing? Totally bizarre. I mean, how do they work, honestly? Did you know they dance to each other to communicate? Like, to tell each other where food is, or where to avoid because of danger?"

Castiel lit up, his eyes sparkling as he bounced on his toes in a surprising motion, looking utterly _thrilled_ that Sam was talking about bees, of all things.

" _Yes_! Aren't they wonderful?"

Sam laughed, feeling bold and confident like Dean and doing what he thought Dean would do in that moment. Well, Dean wouldn't talk about bees with an odd boy who seemed to have an obsession with them, but still. Hypothetically. He tossed a casual arm around Castiel's shoulder, easily done seeing as they were the same height, and poor Castiel for being on the short side _and_ sort of nerdy because _man_ did Sam know that pain.

Castiel turned that startled look on him again but it quickly faded into that small, friendly smile.

"Yeah, they're pretty cool." Sam agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

Castiel lead Sam to the cafeteria at lunch, and Sam was a little relieved. Although he'd always been pretty good at remembering where new places were, - a product of his dad's training - it was nice not to be alone in the corridors. The flow of students surprised Sam a little with their volume, because the school seemed so small at first.

When they reached the counter he and Castiel ended up both ordering spaghetti salad, and Sam made sure to give the lunch lady a winning smile. It turned out the woman who served them was the same one he and Dean had seen at break time. Her name was Lucy, and when Sam gave her a grin and thanked her when she gave him his change, she put a chocolate brownie on each of their trays and told Sam she hoped he was settling in okay.

"That was nice of her." Castiel said as they wove through the throng to try and find a table to sit at, "To give us brownies, I mean."

Sam smiled, spotting a deserted table near one wall and tugging Castiel's sleeve to point it out.

"Yeah. Dean says I have the kind of face that makes people want to give me things." He pulled a face at Castiel and made him smile, "He's so good at getting things for nothing."

Castiel raised an eyebrow, setting his tray upon the table and slipping onto a bench.

"Oh?"

Sam cringed and shrugged, trying not to show how uncomfortable the topic made him feel. He sort of wished he hadn't said anything, but there was something about Castiel that made Sam want to tell as many truths as he could. It was a new experience for Sam, who was so used to fibbing and fobbing off information about his life when strangers asked. He lifted his fork and speared a baby tomato with it, popping it into his mouth as he lifted the wrapped brownie from his tray and offered it to the boy next to him.

"You can have mine too, if you want. I don't really like chocolate much."

Castiel gave him a wide-eyed look and reached for the treat, a small smile breaking over his lips.

"Thank-"

"Oh, baby bro, can't have ya losing that trim figure you got." said a voice, as a hand swept in and accepted Sam's offered brownie.

Sam shot the intruder a glare, half-expecting it to be his brother before the voice registered with his ears. It was not, in fact, Dean, he realised as the figure slid into a seat across from them, deft fingers already unwrapping the plastic to break off a corner. Instead there sat a boy who looked around his brother's age, shorter than Dean, with blonde-brown hair that was roughly as long as Sam's own and tucked under his ears, a sharp nose and angled cheeks. His eyes looked murky brown under his eyebrows, but glittered as though they held secrets that Sam could only guess at.

He tipped his head to one side and raised his eyebrows, making Sam aware of the eye-catching shape of his brow, and a mischievous little smile flickered across his mouth as he looked at them. Sam frowned, making it clear at once how displeased he was that the older boy had taken the brownie meant for Castiel as though it were no big thing. His scowl deepened when the boy popped the chunk he'd broken off into his mouth and chewed it appreciatively.

"That was impolite." Castiel said, squinting at the boy, "That belongs to Sam."

The blonde's smirk curled further on his lips as he turned his gaze fully on Sam.

"Well for one he didn't look like he wanted it much," the stranger said, voice lazy and teasing, "And more to the point, who _is_ this little scrap next to you?"

Sam bristled, clenching his hand around the plastic fork and opening his mouth to tell the kid exactly what he thought about his intrusive behaviour. Normally, a situation like this in a new school would have Sam ducking his head and biting his tongue, but normally Sam was on his own. This time, the situation had arisen with a friend there, and Sam felt a strange sort of protectiveness for Castiel. Perhaps it was because he was so quiet and odd, or maybe because he seemed so lovely. Either way, something about him gave Sam the guts to stare down the older boy in a way he normally wouldn't.

But he didn't get the chance to speak his mind, because Castiel answered first.

"He's a friend." Castiel said, his head tipping down a little as he shot a shy glance Sam's way, "My new friend."

Sam nodded, raising a defiant eyebrow at the older boy as though daring him to deny it. The boy broke off another piece of brownie and tossed it into his mouth, his grin wicked and annoying.

"'Zat so, Cassie?"

This time Sam was faster.

"Yeah, it is. And we've got lunch to eat, so maybe you should stop bugging us and leave."

The older boy gave an amused chuckle, giving Sam a strange sort of appraising look.

"Your new puppy's got bark, Cassie. Interesting."

Sam didn't say anything that time, only glaring instead and focusing his efforts on trying to ignore the heat in his neck at being called a puppy.

"His name is Sam, and he's new. Why don't you try being nice to him?"

The older boy laughed, clapping a hand on the table and standing, his eyes lingering on them before he brushed past Castiel again.

"I am being nice. I came over to say hello, didn't I?"

He ruffled Castiel's hair as he walked away again, leaving the dark locks even more of a mess than they already had been. Castiel looked vaguely annoyed but other than that it seemed he had already shrugged off the intrusion, returning to eating his lunch as though they hadn't been interrupted at all.

"That was rude." Sam said, curious and wondering why Castiel seemed so non-plussed about it all already.

Castiel gave a weary sort of smile, twirling spaghetti around his fork with a serious look of concentration on his face.

"That is typical behaviour for my brother. His manners are atrocious."

Sam was surprised, giving Castiel a curious glance as he watched him eat. The boy looked very little like Castiel at all, tan where Castiel was pale, his features sharp where Castiel's were a little softer. The eyes, the hair… Not to mention their vastly contrasting personalities. He wouldn't have guessed they were related, not from the interaction he'd just witnessed.

"That guy's your brother?"

Castiel only hummed the affirmative and so Sam let it go, following his friend's lead and tackling his own lunch, all the while glancing round the bustling, crowded hall to see if he could spot any trace of his own older brother.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

As the bell rang Dean rolled to his feet, reaching out to snag Sam's pen from where it had rolled under his desk over a half hour ago. In a sheer display of how little he cared for the teacher's take on whatever the hell book they were focusing on he'd let it roll from his fingers when he was playing with it, watching it roll and tumble to the linoleum floor with a deliberately bored expression on his face.

It had just been that much sweeter that it had been during a heartbeat of quiet and the soft clatter had attracted attention. Dean had stayed precisely where he was as several people turned to look, his chin resting on the heel of one hand, continuing to keep his gaze on the front of the class even as the teacher turned from her board and raised an eyebrow in a distinct command for him to pick it up.

The awkward air that had crept into the room had made it hard to bite down his grin, but he'd managed, pretending as though he hadn't picked up on the visible facial cue. A couple people put their heads back down and busied themselves, eager not to get involved, but a couple looked actively invested, glancing between Dean and the teacher as though watching a ball-less tennis match. In the end the skinny kid in front of Dean had reached down to pick it up, handing it over with a smile that was tight and faintly disparaging before turning back in his seat to look at the teacher.

Class continued on as normal until five minutes later, when the pen had rolled again from Dean's fingertips and returned to the floor. That time the air was really awkward, the teacher scowled at him and the kid in front of him didn't even bother.

It was a very long three minutes of tense silence before Miss Masters realised she wasn't going to intimidate him into picking it up.

It had lain there for the remaining duration of the period, Dean spending most of his time leaning back in his chair and fixing his gaze on the utterly boring ceiling as though it were fascinating.

He'd barely tucked the pen into his pocket when her voice called out.

"Mr Winchester, I'd like a word."

"Lunch." he said, his tone skating between helpful and patronising.

The remaining students still gathering their things paused, some darting glances between them and some scurrying from the room. Considering the way they had openly supported himself and the Gabriel kid in homeroom, he was getting the impression that they preferred not to mess with Miss Masters. Which of course made Dean want to do so _more_.

She paused, glancing up from her desk with her mouth a little open, her eyes narrowed as she tried to work out whether he was simply denying her request or being thoroughly disrespectful.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, her voice icy and quiet.

Several more people scurried from the room. Amongst the handful to stay were Gabriel and the girl with the doc martins. The kid with the crew cut wasn't in this class. Apparently he sucked at English. Dean could see them in the corner of his eyes as he straightened and tucked his hands into his pockets, but he didn't look. He knew they were watching, though.

"Lunch." he repeated, a little slowly and with a bright smile, "That's a word."

The way her face coloured was _awesome_ , skipping pink and scooting straight to a dark red atop her cheeks, her eyes fiery in their dark blueness. So navy they looked almost black. Dean raised his eyebrows, sticking to his most helpful expression.

"No." he added, making a show of tipping his head and scratching his chin thoughtfully, close to the line but not overdoing it, "That's also a word. Then you've got _Goodbye_ , Sayonara and Later. Also all words."

It was tempting to grin when he could hear people sniggering under their breath. It pissed the woman off more, and he could see how badly she wanted to shoot them all a glare too. But he could also see she knew she'd lose the battle against them all and was choosing to ignore them instead. She was playing a very unwise game.

"That's quite enough, Mr Winchester." she intoned, low and steely, "Do not think I've missed your disrespectful attitude today. Not making a great first impression now, are you?"

Dean shrugged, pulling a doubtful face. This was too easy.

"I don't know about that," he said, glancing down as though checking himself out. When he lifted his eyes once more it was to go in for the kill, one side of his mouth curling almost flirtatiously, "but you're not seeing me in mood-lighting. Totally different experience."

That time her face took on a purple tinge with rage and the girl in the doc martins couldn't cover her spluttered laugh. Even Gabriel was smirking, his eyes bright with the thrill of seeing a teacher lose control so beautifully.

"Miss Miller," she snapped, turning her gaze at last upon the only two other students still there, "a wise woman would take herself out of this room this instant if she'd rather not stay for the duration of lunch. You too, Mr Novak."

The girl, whose name Dean had yet to learn because he hadn't paid attention during the register once today, shouldered her bag with a laugh that sounded more like a cackle, commenting none-too-subtly about women who were supposed to be wise electing to stay. But she did take her leave, winking over her shoulder at Dean as she passed him and popping bubblegum - blue, this time, - lewdly between her purple lips. Dean flashed her the smirk he reserved for picking up girls in bars, (Bars who didn't care a bit that his ID was fake and the picture didn't look remotely like him,) and she giggled as she waltzed through the door.

Gabriel didn't move, instead giving Dean an appreciative look that Dean knew meant he was _in_ , and in the end the teacher had to make a point of addressing him again, thus destroying what little power she had left in the room.

"Mr Novak?"

"Aw." he said, turning a cheerful expression her way before pouting, "And with the party just getting started…"

"Mr Novak. Do not make me repeat myself."

Gabriel's grin curled and took on a wicked edge.

"Spoilsport." he complained, sighing as he lifted his rucksack and dropped it casually over one shoulder as he sauntered towards the door, "Three's a much more fun number!"

With that last call and a glance Dean's way he was gone, and Dean didn't bother swallowing the snicker that rose from his throat at the scandalised expression on Miss Masters's face as she so clearly debated chasing the boy down or staying to reprimand her initial problem. She turned her frosty eyes Dean's way and pointed with one sharp finger to the chair in front of her desk.

"Sit." she spat, when Dean pretended not to understand, and her scowl only grew in fury as he strolled down the aisle at a leisurely pace, keeping eye contact as he slid into the chair and propped his feet on the desk, "If you're not here when I get back, Mr Winchester, there _will_ be consequences. And you can wipe that smirk off your face, because I guarantee you won't enjoy them."

Dean only continued to grin as she scowled and moved towards the door, barely stopping himself from calling after her because it was so damn tempting. He gave her a minute by his watch to leave the corridor before he got up and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

"Hey, woah there kiddo, it's alright, you're good." came a voice, "It's Sam, right?"

Sam tipped his head back as he shifted to his knees, wincing at the harsh tarmac digging through his jeans, squinting in the sunshine haloing around the figure's hair and making it gold and hazy. He recognised the shirt first. It was the older boy from the lunch hall, who'd spoken to Castiel. His brother, that was it!

"Y-yeah." he confirmed, ignoring the outstretched hand and the pain in his ribs, steadying himself on his feet like he knew Dean would want him to. "You're Cas's brother."

The guy moved out of the direct sun and Sam saw his face properly. Yepp, definitely the right guy. The older boy gave him the once over with a concerned sort of gaze before a crooked smile appeared on his face.

"Well, Sambo, that I am. But sometimes _Hey you, Castiel's brother,_ is a bit of a mouthful for 'em. Instead?" He gestured to himself vaguely with one hand, a movement that teased a small smile from Sam, "They call me Gabriel."

This time when he offered his hand, Sam shook it. If Gabriel was anything at all like Castiel, Sam could trust him alright, even after the brownie thing. Which was good to know, because there was something about the older boy that Sam quite liked, even if he couldn't put his finger on it because there was something about him that was vaguely irritating too. _Sometimes people just have an air about them_ , Sam's dad had once told him, speaking of sussing out monsters in particular, _and you get this feeling that they're good or bad_. In that moment, the air around Gabriel told Sam that Castiel's older brother was just fine, most definitely on the side of _good_.

"I won't bother asking what happened, that's fairly obvious." Gabriel said, his voice taking on a sour edge that made Sam swallow because it sounded more than a little intimidating as his gaze studied Sam from head to toe, "You alright, kiddo?"

Sam made his face smile even though it hurt his lip. He could feel the skin on his cheek raising in a tender slope and knew it would bruise. Dean was going to be furious, at Sam for not fighting back as hard as they both knew he could, but more importantly at the losers who'd roughed up his baby brother. Sam wouldn't say it was pleasant, per say, but there was something… something about the darker side of his brother that always made Sam feel safe. Even if that part was at war with Sam's longing to just be _normal_.

"Course I am."

He made a show of shaking out his shirt and brushing off his jeans, ignoring the sharp gaze and casual snort of the older boy before turning to look for his rucksack. The mixed gang of older boys had torn it from his shoulder to play the age old favourite of piggy-in-the-middle before turning their attentions to Sam himself. He wiped his face with his hand, pulling a face at the smear of blood on his fingers before wiping it carefully on his jeans.

He jumped when his rucksack appeared under his nose. A wary glance at the older boy earned him another weird smirk and a tip of head that reminded Sam fleetingly of Castiel. So maybe they did have something in common after all.

"Thanks." he said and Gabriel beamed, patting his pockets in an amusing little display while Sam threw the backpack over his shoulders and gripped the straps.

"Ta Da!" Gabriel grinned, pulling one hand from a pocket and holding in the air between them two brightly coloured suckers.

Sam gave him a side-eyed look and didn't move when Gabriel waved the sweets a little in the air between them. Gabriel raised a single angled eyebrow, waggling it when Sam raised his own in return.

"I haven't poisoned them." Gabriel taunted, his voice bright and amused, "Or have you never seen candy before?"

Sam scowled, curling his fingers further around the straps on his shoulders and meeting the brown-eyed, expectant look directed his way. Instead of being offended, Gabriel only looked further amused, looking thoughtfully at the contents of his hand as though deeply mulling over the choice. Sam wasn't sure what Castiel's strange older brother was really playing at, whether he was serious or a little crazy because whichever it was it made Sam feel a little uncomfortable not to be able to work him out.

"Now personally, Cherry is my favourite, but I'm partial to Grape too." Gabriel hummed, looking over at Sam with a deeply thoughtful expression, "Which should I have, d'you think?"

Sam blinked at the languid familiarity in his tone, as though they had casual conversations on the topic of lollypop flavours all the time. When he looked at him however, Gabriel only smiled, waiting expectantly. In the end, Sam realised the only way to make the faint awkwardness go away was to answer.

"Uhm, well Cherry if it's you're favourite, I guess?"

"Nice choice, Sammy." Gabriel beamed, tearing the clear crinkly wrapper from the red lolly with his teeth while offering the purple one to Sam.

He waggled it playfully when Sam hesitated, popping his own into his mouth with a childish sort of glee. Sam eyed him, unsure what to make of him. Castiel was odd, in his own ways, but this guy was _weird_. He wrinkled his nose as the older boy made a ridiculous moaning sound around the sucker in appreciation before pulling on the little white stick and releasing the sweet with a wet pop. He turned his eyes on Sam again and smiled, still shaking the purple lolly in front of Sam.

"Go on. Candy makes everything better."

Sam didn't believe that was true at all, but he was starting to feel incredibly awkward standing outside in front of the school with Cas's weird big brother waving sweets in his face. So in the end he took it, just to shut the guy up. There was no need for the wide, proud smirk that Gabriel gave him when Sam accepted his offering. When the older boy continued to look at him with that same expectant look, Sam sighed and unwrapped the lollypop, sticking the sugary confection in his mouth and giving Gabriel a glance.

"Happy?" he asked, removing the syrupy grape-flavoured candy from his tongue after one obliging moment.

Gabriel chuckled, moving over next to him to clap him on the shoulder.

"I like your sense of humour, kiddo."

Sam rolled his eyes, eyeing the sweet distastefully but popping it dutifully back into his mouth, promising himself to toss it in the first bin he came to once he'd ditched the older boy. He shifted away from the hand on his shoulder, uncomfortable with the contact when it wasn't from Dean or their father, or even a good friend. Gabriel removed his hand obligingly.

"So what'd you do to earn the wrath of those dicks?" Gabriel asked pleasantly, matching Sam's strides as he began to walk back towards the school.

Sam found a smile on his lips at the cuss word, relaxing a little in the older boy's presence.

"New kid." he answered around the sucker, making sure to shrug one shoulder to show it wasn't a big deal.

He had a split lip and probably some bruises, but it wasn't like he hadn't had worse in the past. He was a Winchester, after all. Bruises were sort of the name of the game. The reminder in his own head soothed the pain in his legs a little, like a salve. His chest filled a little with pride. He was a _Winchester_. That meant something, and he knew it.

"So what, they dragged you outside to beat you up because they didn't recognise your face?" Gabriel joked, his tone light and lazy again but with a strangely sharp sort of undertone that made Sam think of Dean.

He turned his head to look around again before they reached the school doors, half-hoping his brother would just appear right then, even after Sam had scoured for him already. He shrugged again to Gabriel, hiding his wince when the front steps made his left knee cry out a weak pain.

"Guess so."

"Hm." was all Gabriel said that time, twirling the lollypop stick thoughtfully.

Sam looked away when the eyes turned on him again, more brown and gold now than they had looked earlier. He felt a little queasy, the place in his abdomen where one of the bullies had kicked him making itself known. The truth blurted out of him before he could stop it.

"They were picking on Castiel in the lunch hall. I told them to back off. I guess they followed me out when I came look- … out." he hedged, thinking it best to leave Dean out of it for the moment.

He wasn't sure he wanted his brother to know about what had happened, cringing at the disappointment he knew would glint in Dean's eyes when he found out Sam didn't fight back properly. Sam could defend himself. Years of being Dean's little brother, of being a _Winchester_ , had ensured he knew basic defensive tricks and he was surprisingly strong for his small stature. But Sam didn't like to draw any more attention to himself than he needed, and fighting back - and beating - guys bigger and older than himself was pretty freaking attention-grabbing.

Sometimes he wished he was more like Dean that way. Dean didn't care about people knowing he could fight. He was proud of it, proud that Sam could. He thought Sam should be proud of it too. So maybe he wouldn't tell Dean just yet. Maybe he could even avoid it altogether, if the marks on his face weren't too bad. If he could hide it from Dean, he could hide it from Dad. And that meant no lectures about the importance of fighting back.

"Dicks." Gabriel said again, and this time Sam did smile, ducking his head when his own breathy chuckle surprised him.

"Yeah." he agreed, rolling the lollypop to one side of his mouth and thinking that really, it didn't taste all that bad once you got used to the over-bearing sweetness, "Dicks."

Gabriel chuckled, and they walked the rest of the way back to the cafeteria in a silence that was almost comfortable for Sam. Maybe Gabriel wasn't so bad after all, even if that first impression with the brownie wasn't great. When they reached the hall, less busy now that lunch was half-way done, Castiel spotted them and came over in a polite sort of rushing way that Sam thought suited him.

"Sam?"

Castiel raised a quizzical eyebrow at Gabriel when he reached them, one hand halting half-way to Sam's arm as though he wasn't sure it was appropriate to touch him. Or perhaps afraid he'd hurt him, or something. It made Sam wonder just how bad he looked.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

Sam gave him a grin, finding that to do so came easily.

"Nothing. Just some morons, must've followed me outside."

Castiel looked worried, his mouth making a small creased line as he looked Sam over.

"Did you find your brother?" he asked next, and Sam shook his head in response, giving him a tight smile.

"Nah. I'll catch him after."

Castiel looked like there was more he wanted to say, but something kept him from saying it. It made Sam wonder what it was, if only because his new friend was holding it back in the first place. Instead, Castiel turned to Gabriel.

"Who was it?"

Gabriel made a face to convey he didn't know, but put so much of an exaggeration on it that Sam caught himself laughing at it. Gabriel only looked happier to receive that and twisted the expression into further territory. Castiel rolled his eyes but he was smiling too, shyly but warmly. Sam could see a fondness there and wondered absently if he looked like that when he smiled at Dean. He dismissed the thought, deeming it sappy.

"I'll find out." Gabriel said when he righted his face again, sucking childishly on his lollypop.

Castiel gave a curt nod, deeming that the topic had reached a conclusion before turning back to check Sam over with that serious blue gaze. Sam squirmed but didn't move away, unsure whether it was because Gabriel was observing them or because he'd decided to trust Castiel so swiftly or because he didn't want to hurt Castiel's feelings when the other boy was so kindly concerned about him.

"You don't need to do that." he addressed Gabriel instead, tilting his head to see him, "It's okay."

"Don't you worry about it, Sammich." Gabriel winked, saluting him playfully with his lollypop and beginning to stride backwards towards what must be his waiting friends, "My brothers and I don't take well to people picking on Cassie's friends."

Sam stood beside a worried-looking Castiel as he watched the older boy walk away, that same crooked smile lifting one half of his mouth and his eyes bright in his face. Sam thought he was kind of awesomely just a little bit like Dean right then, a thought that made him flush a little, feeling guilty about comparing a total stranger who'd done a single nice thing for him to his big brother, who'd done everything for him his whole life.

By the time he actually thought to look for a bin, he only had the stained white stick left from the sucker.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight_

"Sam?" Castiel asked hesitantly a while later, when they were half-way through their shared History class, "Are you truly okay? You look pale."

Sam tipped his head and looked up from his worksheet and flashed his new friend a reassuring smile, knowing in that moment a little of what Dean must feel when Sam was the one uncertain in a situation and seeking reassurance.

"I'm okay, Cas. Honest." His mouth began to twist into a different sort of smile as he thought about it, the buoyant feeling of friendship and kindness inside of him not allowing bitterness to edge it, "Your brother is pretty cool, by the way."

Castiel gave a surprised sort of smile, like his face had changed before he'd decided to tell it to, and he raised an eyebrow at Sam.

"Which one?" he asked, sounding only a little bemused and making Sam laugh a little at him.

"Gabriel, you dolt. The one who brought me back inside at lunch?"

He almost cringed at the memory, resenting that he'd hardly made it through two thirds of a day before the first bullies took a pop. Almost. Because Castiel looked so thoroughly pleased that Sam thought his brother was cool, and it made Sam smile when Castiel smiled, like he was infectious or something. Maybe that was the air around him too. Maybe that whole family just had good air. That would explain why Sam felt so comfortable around them, even when he was new and didn't even know them.

"That would make sense." Castiel affirmed with a gentle, low hum, "He is indeed cool. But also very annoying at times." Castiel cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, making Sam think at once of a bird, "He's very fond of pranks, but does not consider the ones the bullies use to be very funny." He righted his head and looked at Sam again with a small smile, "But then again, neither do I. Or you, I would guess."

Sam shook his head.

"I think they're dicks." he muttered, scribbling randomly on his page because he needed a moment of broken eye contact, before an evil sort of smirk curled his lips and he looked back at Castiel before whispering, "But just wait till Dean hears. He'll _kill_ them."

Castiel's eyes flew wide and startled, his mouth dropping open a little to make a round O. Sam laughed, reaching out to squeeze Castiel's shoulder with one hand.

"Not literally." he reassured him, chuckling when Castiel's cheeks turned pink and his eyes turned sheepish, "But he'll be totally pissed. They'll wish they were dead."

Castiel nodded, and both returned to their work for a while, listening closely to the teacher as he spoke at length about their current topic.

"Gabriel could help him, you know." Castiel said softly, a long while later.

When Sam looked over, curiously, Castiel gave him a shy smile.

"He's very protective of me. And he likes you already, I can tell. He doesn't like it when people pick on people who are kind to me. It makes him mad. Balthazar too. And Michael, but he's graduated now." He looked thoughtful then, pausing for a moment in contemplation, "Luke probably would deign not to get involved, if only because sometimes he just likes to see what I'll do when bad things happen."

He stopped himself then, giving Sam a tight sort of not-smile that told him Luke was not Castiel's favourite sibling by any means. Sam gave a low whistle, staring at Castiel a little.

"Jeez, Cas. How many brothers you got?"

"Six." Castiel answered quietly, sounding equal parts proud and embarrassed before he gave one hand an awkward little wave in his own direction, "Seventh son of a seventh son."

"That's freaky." Sam breathed in awe, making sure to smile so that Castiel knew he wasn't poking fun, "I've got one brother. I dunno if I'd like having six. But Dean _is_ awesome, so maybe."

Castiel gave a funny sort of smile then.

"It's both good and bad to have so many. They look out for me. But I am the youngest, so when they're looking for someone to pick on or to play pranks on…" He gave a soft chuckle, "They pick me."

Sam knew what that felt like, sometimes Dean was awful for pranks. Castiel tipped his head to the side again.

"Anna is always wonderful, though. She's the nicest one of all."

Sam breathed in a sharp choking sound and gave Castiel a weirdly awed look.

"You've got sisters too?"

"Just one." Castiel smiled, laughing gently as Sam's expression, "But she's the most brilliant of all my siblings."

Sam wondered whether he'd like having a sister, the idea making him feel a strange sort of uncomfortable. Having a sister would be weird, especially because she wouldn't sleep in the same motel rooms with Sam and Dean, would she? So at least he wouldn't have to share a room any more than he already did. But he _would_ have to share Dean, and somehow that made him feel oddly sick. Dean was _his_ big brother.

He dismissed the feeling immediately of course, knowing it was childish and stupid because if they had a sister Dean would be her big brother too. Somehow he knew she would, because Dean being a little brother was just a ridiculous thought, an idea Sam's mind couldn't truly imagine. Dean was _big_ brother material. He just was.

Having a sister could be nice if he wanted someone to read with when Dean was in one of his macho moods. She could go with him to libraries when Dean was obsessing over hunting, and it would mean Sam wasn't on his own, so Dean wouldn't have to worry so much. Especially if she was a big sister. At least _she_ wouldn't tease him for being a girl when he wanted to do things like going to the park or talked about dogs or anything. Not like Dean did.

Sam felt a little guilty then, thinking like that. It didn't matter anyway, did it, because he didn't have a sister. He had Dean and his dad, and that was better. That was enough. Really, they were all Sam had ever known in the way of family. Unless you counted their Uncle Bobby, who wasn't really their uncle but their dad's crotchety friend. Sam counted him okay, because even though he wasn't their blood, he _was_ there when they needed him, and they'd spent a lot of time with him over the years when dad was going on a hunt that was too dangerous for them.

Despite the grumpy streak he had, and the strict rules about mad things, Sam loved Bobby. The man was crazy about books and lore, and whenever they visited Sam was in his element exploring book after book, discovering things he didn't know existed and learning things about them that his dad wouldn't really teach them. Knowing how to gank them was important, obviously, but Sam couldn't help being interested in other things too, if the books happened to hold them.

Like tendencies and weather they liked, or abstract facts about their origins or favourite continent or type of tree or anything at all remotely interesting.

And Bobby was the one who'd taught Dean most about cars, seeing as how he owned a Salvage Yard full of vehicles in various stages of distress and decay. Dean loved to spend an afternoon out there learning about gears and wires and carburettors or whatever else there was to know, tuning engines and working with tools. Sam would sit outside with him sometimes too, with a particularly interesting book, and he'd read out loud the weirdest parts or the oddest facts and Dean would hum in return and tell Sam stories about old hunts he was too young to remember. Or he'd put the radio on and sing along with it and Sam would laugh at him and tease him and eventually sing with him too.

Sam loved his dad. Of course he did. But sometimes, when it was a particularly lonely night in a motel or after a really bad day at a new school or when Dean was huffing at him for being a baby and their dad was gone longer than he said he would be, Sam would wish, just a little bit, that he could stay at Bobby's more. He liked it there. It was safe and stable and he could read as much as he liked and Bobby was a genius and could teach him anything about anything so he wouldn't have to go to school. And Dean could work on the cars. And he could still hunt with their dad, couldn't he?

At least that way if Sam didn't want to go he could stay home with Bobby, even if Dean was gone.

But that was silly thinking anyway. Because Bobby wasn't his dad, and John Winchester wouldn't hear of Sam staying behind all the time. Sam had asked Bobby once, a few years ago when he was smaller and more naive. At the time he'd thought Bobby was upset with him, but now he knew he wasn't. Bobby was the happy sort of emotional. Touched that Sam liked staying there. He was a lot like John that way, emotions weren't really a done thing.

When Sam heard Bobby and John arguing that night, he'd known it was about him. He felt guilty as all hell afterwards and in the morning when the two men had been sullen and ignoring each other, he'd wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Bobby gave him an extra pancake for breakfast though, and his eyes had looked sort of sad when Sam said Thank You.

Sam had Dean, and he had John and he had Bobby. He didn't need six brothers to look out for him because he had _them_.

"I don't think I need a sister." Sam said, giving Castiel a cheeky sort of smile, "But maybe it would be nice, sometimes. Especially if she was brilliant like your Anna."

Castiel beamed, scribbling on his worksheet and not looking up, but Sam knew he was pleased anyway.


End file.
